


Brand Management

by Crowgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: ‘What -- uh -- what is happening? Here? Now?’





	Brand Management

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catchclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/gifts).
  * Inspired by ["Tony, are you alright?"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/432047) by Beir. 



‘Tony?’ Bucky leans out from behind the half-wall, flesh hand still out of sight somewhere, head cocked, hair loose and tangled around his shoulders, and -- and --

It’s not like Tony doesn’t _know_ his brand, okay? He knows it by fucking heart. One of his favorite things is okaying new Iron Man gear and he _does_ okay every damned piece of it. He can’t stop the knockoffs but if it says Stark and Iron Man on it anywhere, it’s going to be a decent piece of work if he has to do it himself.

And apparently the briefs he’d signed off on a month or so ago had been a _damned_ fine piece of work.

At least, with Bucky as model. Some part of Tony’s brain -- the part that isn’t abruptly oxygen-deprived -- notes that for later: maybe they should ask Bucky to model. Although the photographs would likely be unusable in the general market: Bucky, naked except for the briefs is porn. There’s just no other way of putting it.

Steve pops his head around the corner and props his chin on Bucky's shoulder. ‘Something you want, Tony?’ 

Bucky throws a smile Steve’s way, then lounges back, one shoulder on the wall, one foot propped up against the other ankle.

Tony licks his lips, blinks, blinks again just in case that will help. It doesn’t. ‘Uh... I.... had... a question.’

Steve nods. ‘Uh-huh?’ Steve’s hand makes an appearance on Bucky’s metal shoulder, strokes a long path down to his fingers, grips them momentarily, then slips from hand to ribs, and Tony is either going to pass out or come on the spot, he’s not sure which but the odds of the latter become a lot greater when Steve’s hand doesn’t _stop,_ doesn’t even _pause,_ just dives under that goddamned Iron Man logo waistband, and cups over -- over-- 

‘I -- have no idea what it was,’ Tony says because there’s nothing else he _can_ say.

Steve grins at him, a dare of an expression. ‘Something else on your mind?’

Tony tears his eyes away from the bulge of Steve’s knuckles under that tight red cloth. ‘Um...I -- I’m gonna -- go -- now.’ He jerks a thumb over his shoulder and doesn’t move.

‘Aw, really? but Bucky bought these all special for you.’

And Tony explodes. He’s pretty sure he does. Or at least his brain does because goddamn if he can think of a _single_ fucking thing to say. Not a word. Not a syllable. 

Bucky leans his head back on Steve’s shoulder and noses at the side of his throat. ‘C’mon, babe. Even geniuses get a brain cramp from time to time.’

‘Well, then, I suppose we should give Tony's brain a break.’ Steve’s hand slides further down and Bucky sighs and arches back against his arm; Steve chuckles and braces himself.

All Tony can really see -- through a slight haze -- is the outline of Steve’s knuckles through the fabric but Bucky groans again, a deep, drawn-out sound that seems to come up from his toes, and the red fabric just below Steve's wristbone turns a shade or two darker.

Tony licks his lips and tries to convince some of the blood in his body to return to his brain. ‘What -- uh -- what is happening? Here? Now?’

Steve smiles at him over Bucky’s shoulder and does something with his hand that makes Bucky choke. ‘Well, y’see, Tony, I have my hand on Bucky’s dick and Bucky’s enjoying that. And I think -- I’m not absolutely certain, you understand -- but I _think_ Bucky’s also enjoying the way you’re looking at him.’ Steve nudges forward under Bucky’s ear, pressing his lips so close that his breath stirs strands of hair. ‘Is that right, Buck?’

Bucky makes a sound that’s halfway between a grunt and a groan and waves a hand at Tony. Tony stares at it like it’s the first time he’s seen the metal fingers before. ‘Jesus, yes -- just -- come _here,_ Tony, for fuck’s sake.’

Tony can’t make his feet move and Steve smiles at him again, twisting his wrist in a fashion that not only makes the tight fabric slide further down Bucky’s hip but also makes Bucky make a noise that is probably illegal in this state.

Tony finds himself staring, absolutely mesmerized by the stretch of Bucky’s skin between Steve’s wrist and the top of those stupid, stupid, goddamn _stupid_ red briefs.

Bucky gasps and grabs for Steve’s hip with the hand he doesn’t have stretched out to Tony. ‘Look, we -- we can talk later, okay? all you want, whatever you want, just -- _please,_ now, okay?’

Steve lifts his head from where he’s been sucking a dark mark just below Bucky’s ear and smiles at Tony again. ‘Well?’

Tony shakes his head, once, hard; it does nothing to subdue the buzzing in his ears but it does make him feel a tiny bit more grounded. and, yeah, he could stand here and demand explanations until the moon goes blue from cold and Steve gets Bucky off right the hell in front of him or -- or -- _or_ he could say ‘what the fuck,’ hold his nose, and jump in the deep end.

One of these approaches has always served him (pretty) well.

‘Do we have rules?’ Tony asks, delighted to hear that his voice doesn’t shake as he crosses the room.

‘Kiss me,’ Bucky demands, grabbing Tony’s hand as soon as he’s within reach.

Tony starts to say something smart-assed about how if that’s a rule he can probably handle it but Bucky’s way too quick and even if Tony could talk through the hot press of Bucky’s tongue, he wouldn’t want to. He can hear Steve chuckle again somewhere in front of him and then there’s another hand on his waist, tugging him forward.

Tony pulls himself free of Bucky’s lips which may be the least selfish thing he has ever done in his entire life and he wants a medal for that, really, he does. ‘Where are we going?’

Bucky grins at him and turns, keeping a firm grip on Tony’s hand and following Steve around a corner and-- Oh. Well. Yes. The bedroom. Obviously. Duh.

And it says a lot about these two men that they have been in this space less than a day, will probably not be in it more than two days total, and it already looks as though they live here. Steve’s kitbag is on a chair; Bucky’s pack sags against the leg of the same chair. Bucky’s boots have fallen on their sides close to the bed and Steve’s jeans and button-down from earlier are in a tangled heap at the foot of the bed. 

Steve’s nowhere in sight and Tony’s just about to start worrying about that when he hears a door closing behind him and realises what Steve must be up to. Good thing one of the three of them has two brain cells left to rub together. 

Bucky lets go of his hand and turns around, perching on the bottom of the bed and then easing himself back, one foot flat on the mattress, the other leg long and relaxed. He leans back on his elbows, shakes his hair back like a goddamn shampoo model, and grins at Tony. ‘See anything you like?’

‘Jesus fuck…’ It’s as close to a prayer as Tony’s been in years and he can’t decide what he wants to do more: simply drop to his knees or--

‘This is easier with fewer clothes on,’ Steve says, right in his ear, low and smooth like Tony has never heard him sound before and there’s _heat_ all along Tony’s back, his ass, his thighs, the kind of hot that only comes from bare skin and sweat and, holy shit, those are Steve’s hands on his shirt, Steve’s hands urging him to lift his arms and--

‘What the fuck is happening?’ Tony demands, spinning around to face, yes, an entirely naked Steve and keeping his eyes on Steve’s face with the kind of willpower he generally reserves for pulling out of power dives to avoid Thor’s lightning. 

Steve raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, you see, Tony--’

Tony waves a finger in his face. ‘Oh, no. No, no, no, don’t you give me that!’ He spins around again, waves the finger at Bucky. ‘You have known me for two years, lived in my goddamned _house_ for one -- and now -- _now_ you decide to invite me to the party?’ 

‘I thought you said it was _our_ house,’ Bucky interjects, sounding a tiny bit forlorn and Tony rolls his eyes.

‘Oh my _God,_ okay, _fine, our_ house, whatever, it started as my house but who cares.’ He whirls around, prepared to keep lecturing Steve but the look on Steve’s face stops him cold. He’s seen Steve be kind before, be gentle, talk someone off a ledge, and this is like all of that, amped up to a thousand. Steve is just _radiating_ l-- something Tony is quite definitely _not_ identifying as love because if he does that he is a lost goddamn man and he’s not giving up that easy. 

‘We thought this might be better.’ Steve waves a hand around the room. ‘Not the tower, not New York.’

Tony stares at him. ‘Better for what, exactly?’

‘To get you to stop _looking_ and start _doing,’_ Bucky purrs in his ear, warm hands sliding around Tony’s waist, undoing his belt and tugging down his zipper as if Bucky had done exactly this a thousand times before. 

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa…’ Tony claps a hand over Bucky’s. ‘Look. Guys. I -- thanks.’ He clears his throat. ‘Really. _Really._ Thanks. But --’ He shakes his head. ‘I can’t.’

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. ‘You can’t?’

‘I -- just -- I’ve never been that guy, okay? Maybe for, like, a year when I was twenty but -- no, I can’t just -- no.’ Tony shakes his head again and swallows hard. This might be the stupidest decision he’s ever made, one he’ll wake up and curse himself for in the middle of the night, but that’s far better than the alternative. He’s had his heart broken like this before and Tony Stark is proud to say he has (very rarely) made the same mistake twice.

Steve shakes his head, steps forward, cups Tony’s face with both hands, his thumbs stroking the line of Tony’s chin, just barely teasing his lower lip. ‘Tony. Do either of us strike you as being “that guy”?’

‘Uh -- well, _no,_ but -- you never struck me as being _this_ guy either--’ Tony waves his free hand wildly, trying to indicate the entire situation through flailing. 

Bucky’s hand turns under Tony’s, interlacing their fingers, pressing firm over Tony’s belly. ‘You never once saw us looking back?’

‘I…’ Sure, there had been a couple times when Tony had _thought_ \-- but, fuck, Tony’s brain has never been the most reliable thing -- brilliant, yes; reliable, no, so he’d just discounted it as telling him what he wanted to hear.

‘Gotta learn to trust those instincts, Tony,’ Bucky says, amused.

‘Fuck you.’

‘That was the plan, yeah…’ Bucky pushes his hips against Tony’s ass. ‘...but then _someone_ just _had_ to stop and talk it all out.’

‘We’re not being that guy, Tone,’ Steve says, one thumb pressing just in the center of Tony’s lower lip. ‘And this isn’t to burn time before dinner, either. In case you were wondering.’

Tony pulls in a deep breath, closes his eyes, holds his lungs full for a moment. He can smell Steve’s skin, the tang of Bucky’s shampoo, the fading scent of his own cologne; he can feel Bucky’s hand, still and steady over his, Steve’s hand on his chin, firm and heavy and just… waiting. For him. ‘Well, fuck me, why didn’t you say so?’ 

Steve grins, slowly, his face blooming into something even more gorgeous and Tony can’t stand to look at it, can’t stand to think that all that happy is related to _him_ because there's pretty much no way he's _not_ going to fuck this up so he slides a hand behind Steve’s head and tugs him down to kiss instead.

Behind him, Bucky makes a satisfied noise and his other hand comes around Tony’s hip to work on his zipper. ‘That’s more like it.’

It’s a confusing few minutes before they end up on the bed; Tony toes off his boots while Bucky pushes his jeans down. Steve tugs his t-shirt off over his head and Tony’s boxers disappear God knows where, but when he turns around, urged by Steve, Bucky’s still in those goddamned briefs.

Bucky’s spread out on the bed, like the world’s sexiest take on the Vitruvian man, and, as Tony watches, he runs one hand down the center of his chest, dips a thumb into his navel, and slides his hand under the waistband. He twists his wrist, tilting it just far enough forward that Tony can see the tangle of dark curls between his thighs. ‘You were saying...?’

This time, Tony doesn’t try to stop himself. He pitches forward, ends up on hands and knees on the bed, shuffling between Bucky’s spread thighs until he can just let himself go and press his face into the hollow of his hip, lick at the fabric of the briefs, press his mouth over the hard line of Bucky’s cock.

‘Jesus..’ Bucky hisses above him and both hands come down to tangle in Tony’s hair, stroke over his ears and the back of his neck. 

‘Let the man work, Buck,’ Steve says and the mattress dips a bit. Tony glances up in time to see Steve stretch himself along Bucky’s side, lifting himself up on one elbow just enough to be able to lean over and kiss Bucky and that’s something Tony can _not_ look away from: the angle is perfect for him to see their lips come together, part, the tip of Steve’s tongue come out to trace Bucky’s upper lip, Bucky nip at Steve’s lower lip.

‘Jesus fuck, you two are a hazard,’ he breathes and Steve breaks away long enough to grin down at him.

‘Look who’s talking. We’re not the ones who made that sexiest dozen list.’

Tony shakes his head. ‘BuzzFeed’s staffed by idiots; I’ve always said it.’

‘Ahem?’ Bucky twitches his hips and Tony props himself on his elbows, tucking his fingertips into the elastic waistband. 

‘Something you want, sweetheart?’ He mouths over Bucky’s cock through the fabric, tonguing at the head where it’s almost pushing over the top of the waistband, and Bucky curses, a long string of words that vanishes into a long groan when Tony finally tugs the briefs down enough to lick along unprotected skin. 

It isn’t worth taking the time to work the briefs all the way down Bucky’s legs, so Tony simply digs his nails into a seam and _tears._

‘Aw, hey, I liked those…’ Bucky’s flushed, breathing hard, but still together enough to bitch.

Tony grins at him and levers himself a little further up the bed, planting a hand outside Bucky’s hips, the other right between his thighs. His own cock is hard, heavy, aching more than he can remember in a fucking long time but it can wait; never let it be said Tony Stark is a selfish lover. ‘You’ll like this better.’ He lowers his head, licks at the swollen crown of Bucky’s cock, outlines it with his tongue, lets his tongue get good and wet and drags the foreskin back with the tip, and listens to the noises Bucky’s making above him. 

Steve’s saying something, Tony can’t quite hear what, but the rhythm of speech breaks into a gasp and Tony glances up in time to see Steve’s cock, flushed and red, riding slick between Bucky’s metal fingers, Steve arching back, eyes closed, mouth open, and fuck if Tony can’t feel himself jerk and leak a little at that. He wants to sit back, maybe get a hand on himself, take the edge off a tiny bit, but Bucky’s moaning and twitching and Tony’s not one to leave a job half-finished.

So he bows down again, closes his eyes, tries to remember how to relax his throat -- _breathe through your nose, breathe through your nose_ \-- and lets Bucky’s cock ride his tongue all the way down. 

Bucky cries out, sharp and clear, and Steve groans, a long drawn-out sound that ends with the tang of come in the air and Tony can’t help it: he hasn’t humped a mattress since he was fourteen but he can’t stop himself. It almost _hurts_ it feels so fucking good and Bucky’s leaking down his throat, cock pulsing against his palate, and Tony’s not sure which one of them actually comes first.

He knows he comes back to himself a moment or an hour later, his cock sticky and oversensitive against his thigh, his head on Bucky’s thigh, Steve’s fingers stroking through his hair, panting like he’s just finished a session on the treadmill.

‘No fair,’ Bucky complains, slowly propping himself up on an elbow. ‘You took care of yourself.’

Tony waves a hand and Steve grabs it, hoists him up the bed until he’s between the two of them. ‘Gimme five minutes.’ 

Bucky laughs, shifting so he’s curled around Tony’s shoulder, Steve on the other side, their hands clasped over Tony’s navel. 

‘So… uh… did I live up to expectations?’ Tony asks after a moment because he is that asshole and he can’t stop himself. 

Bucky snorts and Steve laughs. 

**Author's Note:**

> All credit for this goes to [Catchclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw) and [Beir.](https://beir.tumblr.com/post/178402761183/Tony-are-you-alright-dracusfyre-sent-this)


End file.
